Model to Holywood

In the evening, on 3rd Avenue and North 116th Street, Luca sat slumped on a bench outside a greenbelt, wearing a messy wig and torn jeans with dirty shoes.

Like the homeless man sitting nearby, he lazily crossed his legs, his gaze constantly scanning the street, trying to spot any suspicious individuals.

"Hey, man, this is my turf," the homeless man suddenly said.

"What did you say?" Luca turned his head, puzzled.

"Uh..."

The homeless man, small and frail, seemed intimidated by Luca's cold expression, his eyes flickering. "Man, if you're planning to sleep here, I'll give you the spot."

"Wait!" 

Seeing the man about to leave, Luca smirked. "I'm not staying here. The weather's nice tonight; I'm planning to wander elsewhere."

"Really?"

The homeless man sighed in relief and sat back down on the bench.

"You don't look like a drifter," the man said after a while.

"Oh? And why's that?" Luca withdrew his gaze and asked.

"Your eyes are too sharp, like a cop hunting a thief," the homeless man said, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Haha, take another look now!" 

Luca softened his gaze, filling his eyes with confusion and loneliness.

"Haha, you must be an actor!" the homeless man laughed.

Luca shrugged. "And you don't really seem like a drifter either."

"Oh? Why's that?" the man asked, curious.

"Your clothes, although worn, are clean, and you don't smell weird," Luca said slowly.

"No, I really am a drifter, a professional one. I spend at least a month every year drifting, and I've been doing it for six years now."

"Why do you do that?" Luca asked.

"I have cancer. Eight years ago, the doctors told me I wouldn't live past two years. So, I gave up my job, my family, all my relationships, and just wandered. I thought I'd die in some corner of a city. But after two years of drifting, I didn't die."

The homeless man chuckled, his yellow teeth and messy beard showing his expertise.

"Did you recover?" Luca asked, surprised.

"Yes, my doctor said my condition was improving, haha! Ever since then, I go drifting every year, letting go of everything and aimlessly roaming from city to city. Over time, I fell in love with this lifestyle."

"Congratulations!" Luca said, slightly envious.

"And you? What's your story?" the homeless man asked.

Just as Luca was about to answer, he saw Miranda stepping out of a car holding a bouquet of red roses. His demeanor immediately changed, his eyes widening like a vigilant cat.

"Haha, I get it now. You're after that girl, right? She's a real beauty. Good luck!" the homeless man laughed.

"Thanks. And I wish you a full recovery," Luca said, smirking, but his eyes were locked on the crowd behind Miranda, searching for anyone suspicious. Unfortunately, he found none.

"Excuse me, coming through!" 

A tall, skinny man walked by, hands in his pockets, and sat on the bench. He was fixated on the distant crowd, his blue eyes filled with a mix of emotions—joy, frustration, and melancholy—all intensely focused.

Luca was startled to realize that this man's gaze was also on Miranda, and he looked familiar.

"Thomas?" Luca hesitated before calling out.

The man blinked, turned to look at him, first with confusion, then with surprise and embarrassment.

"Are you... Luca?!"

"You're Thomas?" Luca was also surprised. Thomas had changed a lot.

The last time Luca saw him, Thomas had a rosy complexion, full of energy—a shy, sunny boy. 

But now, he had lost a lot of weight, his face pale, and he seemed more melancholic, as if he had been through a serious illness.

Suddenly, Luca remembered something.

At a party, a group of supermodels had casually mentioned that four male models were hospitalized after a trip with some wealthy women. One of them, named Thomas Milton, lost a lot of weight after being discharged. Could it be him?

"Thomas, you don't look well. Are you feeling sick?" Luca asked, fingers interlocked, in a brightly lit café by the street.

"It's nothing." 

Thomas lowered his head. "Luca, congrats on landing another big contract."

"Thanks, just lucky," Luca shrugged.

"It's not luck. You've got the talent," Thomas said.

Luca nodded in agreement. "You're right. I believe I got the endorsement through my own ability, not by any underhanded means."

"Haha, you've heard the rumors too?" Thomas laughed.

"Of course! I've got thick skin, but I still have some pride, right?" Luca spread his hands.

Thomas chuckled again, the gloom on his face easing a bit.

Luca smirked as he stirred his coffee slowly. 

"Thomas, why are you here tonight?" Luca asked.

"I, uh, moved here," Thomas hesitated before answering.

Luca raised an eyebrow. "Miranda didn't mention anything about that."

"I haven't had a chance to tell her yet," Thomas muttered, his hands clenching and unclenching.

"You should tell her. Miranda would be thrilled to know you're living nearby," Luca said, watching him closely.

"I… I will tell her," Thomas said, taking a sip of his coffee. "Luca, what are you doing here tonight, dressed like that?"

Luca glanced at him and said with a smile, "I'm catching a thief!"

"A thief?"

"Yes."

Luca shrugged. "Recently, someone's been following Miranda, and it's scared her so much she won't walk alone at night. She's been losing sleep over it. She asked me to help catch the guy, but after three days, I still haven't caught him."

"Really? Is that so? I didn't mean for that to happen. I was just watching from a distance, didn't mean to scare her."

As Thomas listened, his face alternated between red and pale, his hands tightly clasped together as he mumbled.

"What did you say?"

Luca asked.

"Oh, nothing," Thomas muttered, lowering his head and picking up his coffee cup, only to put it down again.

Luca smirked slightly. "Thomas, do you have some free time lately? I'm shooting a commercial tomorrow and won't have time to keep watch. Could you help keep an eye out for me?"

"Yes, yes, I can," Thomas nodded eagerly, sounding a bit excited. "Don't worry, Luca. I promise no one will ever follow Miranda again."

"Good, now I can work in peace."

Luca smiled faintly.

"Miranda, is anyone still following you?"

Two days later, while on the set of the commercial shoot, Luca received a call from Miranda and casually brought it up.

"Strangely enough, no. Has that guy been caught?"

Miranda asked curiously.

"Yep, I caught him that day and gave him a good beating. He was so scared he promised he'd never follow you again."

"Wow, Luca, thank you so much!"

"No problem!"

Then Luca remembered something. "By the way, Thomas moved to your street a few days ago. Have you seen him?"

"Yeah, I have. But he's acting really strange lately. He's become more withdrawn. I asked him if something was wrong and if he needed help, but he didn't say anything. I'm a little worried about him."

Miranda sighed softly.

"Maybe he's just having trouble at work."

"Hopefully."

Miranda exhaled, "Luca, have you finished shooting your commercial yet?"

"Not yet. It'll take two or three more days."

Luca glanced at the set behind him.

"Got it. If you have time, come over to my place. We can smoke together again, how about that?"

Miranda said sweetly.

"Sure!"

"Luca, we're ready!"

The assistant director shouted loudly from the set.

"OK!"